


Perhaps

by aka_noodle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aka_noodle/pseuds/aka_noodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Christmas lunch a small, first year girl decides it's time to confront her teachers about something that has been bothering her for a long time. -Harry Potter OC fanfic-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the Prisoner of Azkaban. Right after the Christmas lunch which this year has only 13 people in attendance (Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Filch, Trelawney, Harry, Ron, Hermione, a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth-year and 2 extremely nervous first years one of which is named Derek.)
> 
> I wrote and posted this a while ago on dA but never elsewhere for some reason.

After the third year boys had left Hermione turned to Professor McGonagall but before they could say a word to the teacher they was interrupted by a loud crash. All the people in the room turned to the source of the sound.

A tiny student sat beside the Slytherin boy, they had short red hair and a pointed nose upon which sat dark rimmed glasses which hid their bright green eyes. The first year sat with their hand on the table. For a moment they looked as shocked as the rest of them, then, as if realising what they had just done, their cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

They shook their head and the blush faded. They looked at Professor Dumbledore with a determined look on their face. At this point Derek, the other first year sitting next to their, looked frankly terrified.

“Is there something you wish to say Steele?”

The student glanced at Professor Sprout and looked down, seemingly about to shake their head again but stopping at the last second. They looked up at their head of house and spoke with a new found confidence.

“Yes.”

The student turned again to Professor Dumbledore who was watching them with interest.

“P…” They trailed off as soon as they started before shaking their head again.

The next words they uttered were barely whispers and only heard by the boys sitting either side of their.

“Come on Mimi, you’re eleven years old now, damn it. That’s too old to be scared of asking a simple question.”

As the Hufflepuff student spoke even the Slytherin boy began to look nervous of the first year.

They looked again to Professor Dumbledore looking even more determined than before and spoke so quickly not everyone in the room understood their question.

“Professor Dumbledore, hasanyoneeverbeensortedintothewronghouse?”

The Headmaster smiled at the first year.

“Not that I am aware of, I'm afraid the sorting hat doesn't make mistakes.”

“But Professor-“

“Yes, Miranda.”

“It’s Mimi.”

“Yes, Mimi.”

“I'm as cunning and ambitious as anyone else here, probably more. Why aren't I…?”

They let the question hang in the air. It was as if they suddenly noticed the fact that everyone in the room, including all four heads of house, were watching their intently.

“Why aren't you in Slytherin?” Professor Dumbledore finished their sentence for their.

Mimi nodded.

“Well, you certainly are ambitious, you want to do well for yourself and by that you mean better than your younger brother I believe.”

The first year nodded, their mouth hanging open as they tried to process how much the head knew about their.

“And cunning too, sneaking around behind your parents backs to ask me to attend Hogwarts against their wishes.”

“So why…?”

Dumbledore smiled at Mimi then. “Perhaps your loyalty and aptitude for hard work outweigh these qualities….or perhaps for the first time in over a thousand years the sorting hat was wrong. What do you think is the case?”

Mimi looked taken aback.

They sighed before standing and walking to the door.

The first year stopped in the doorway and turned back to the other students and teachers.

“I still think it might have been wrong about me.”

They smiled before leaving the room.


End file.
